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thought

You will, or maysee something todaythat may surprise you.It may reveal itselfin a quiet moment,it may be nothing morethan a fleeting thoughtor image, which youare at first uncertain.There won’t be Maginot even magic, thoughon reflection, it mayseem somehow magical.It will happen openly,but most will missits occurrence.Only the rarestamong us willcontemplate its revelations,but for those who looktoo closely it will be an empty feast.

To know the road aheadask those coming back.— Chinese Proverb

I have progressed to the pointthat I no longer mark timein neat segments based on rotationof this world about that, now I ammeasured against those around me, Iseek those with whom I share an age.It is best to walk at noon, althoughthe sun is hottest then, for my shadowdraws inward, less exposed, butit slowly creeps outward as the sun retreats.I am of an age with the sun, I see myselfreflected in my children, who callin the night as I have fledinto my sanctuary, away from yapping dogs.My sons were, just days ago, standingjaws clenched, before the batting tees,they would throw down the batin disgust after a swing as the balltoppled slowly to the ground, now onesits in his cramped office just out of sightof the river and mulls that momentof time before there was time, the otherfinds structure in the randomness of thought.I am of an age with that momentof time before timeI am of an age with that random thought.

First Appeared in Alembic, Winter, 1999-2000.

It isn’t the seeing of somethingthat matters, for what is seenwas there to be seen so seeingis just its natural consequence.It is only when you label it, giveit a name that it ceases to exist,for you at least, for at that momentwhat exists is the label and no longerthe thing that was labeled, solanguage always keeps us from experiencing life, renders usobservers of the things weno longer co-experience. It is much like looking in the mirrorand imagining you see yourselfwhen all you see is the polishedsurface of the glass, and whileyou may be many things, weare reasonably certain thatreflective glass was never one of them.

The hardest thing of all
is that there is no one to entreat,
no one who has to sort the infinite
voices, note who requested what
so that delivery of the prayers, the few
that warrant granting, go
to the correct person, particularly
given that there is no system in place
to track the whims of the grantor.
Still, you take to the mat,
fold your legs, or tuck them
under the sitting bench, and unfocus
hoping those wishes will slip away
on a sea of intervening thoughts,
and there will be, just for a moment,
nothing at all, and that, you know,
would be as close as you get to everything.

In my dreams last nightI thought I came across the Buddhawhile off wandering somewhere I could not recognize.I thought long and hard about following Linji’s proscriptionand killing the Buddha, but while lost in contemplationthe Buddha took up his keisaku,said “if you cannot followthe simplest of directions,if you are so lost in thoughtyou can never attain buddhahood”and with one significant blowinstantly killed my dreamand allowed me to finally see.

The problem with bringing theninto now is that now slips awayand then no longer really exists. You may wish all you like for summerto remain, but Autumn demands her dueand even the leaves grow tiredand need that final rest.Do not deny the clouds, but treat themlike a stray thought, let thembe present, and let them leaveand take what they offer without complaint, for they are fragile and will flee like the kitten, and you
will never be able to coaxa return until they are ready.Now, where were you?